From the Outcast's Eyes-Elizabeth

I don’t really blame the other kids for the way they act. It’s hard for them to comprehend the fact that life sometimes hits you, even if you didn’t throw the first punch. You never consider the kid who sits alone at lunch when your table is swarming with friends. You don’t compliment the kid who wears used dingy clothing and doesn’t comb their hair. You don’t talk to the kid who, out of their awkwardness, can barely muster a reply. When they wake up happy to go to school, and to see their friends, and to carry on, they don’t think.  They don’t think of the kid who dreads another 6 hours of school every morning. They blow me off; give me as much attention as you would a wall. I’m only another face in the classroom after all. I go days without a receiving a single hi. Who would want to be nice to the outcast anyway?  Who would want to make them feel good? But then again, it’s hard to understand when life is giving you all you need. But you’d think that they would notice the kid who needs help. They’re just too busy walking high and proud, with a conceited “Life is good” look slapped across their face to notice the kid who’s screaming inside. When will they look down, with an outstretched hand, and help?